


Introduction to Escapology

by Severuslovesme



Category: Community
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-20
Updated: 2010-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-13 21:44:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/142030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severuslovesme/pseuds/Severuslovesme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The dean decides that celebrating National Bubble Bath day is his newest brilliant idea. Naturally, chaos ensues. A very special episode of Community.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Introduction to Escapology

**Author's Note:**

  * For [epshlan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/epshlan/gifts).



“Welcome, students, to the first day of classes in your Spring Semester at Greendale!”  


The dean’s voice booms, jubilant, out over the loudspeaker, to a chorus of moans and a quorum of rolled eyes from the students in the hallway. Jeff walks by the masses, hair mussed to perfection, a half smirk on his lips.

“And in celebration of National Bath Safety month, and the fact that January 8th is National Bubble Bath Day, today we will be having a Bathtub Bubble (B)extravaganza in the cafeteria! And not outside, despite what those posters might say.” The dean pauses.

“Apparently, hypothermia is a real thing.” After a crackle the P.A. system falls silent.

Jeff halts his entrance into the cafeteria to look up at the speakers. The smirk, despite his best efforts, fades from his mouth. When he turns around, his eyes widen comically as he takes in the array of hot tubs and bathtubs dotting the room, and he quickly makes his way to the table where Shirley, Annie and Britta are sitting.

“What’s going on?” Jeff asks as he slides into the booth. It’s one of the few that remains in the cafeteria after the hostile takeover by the local ‘Johnny’s Hot Tub and Pool Specialist.’

“Some kind of new, made up holiday for January,” Britta replies, voice dry and disinterested. She stabs at her lettuce ineffectually.

“I don’t think it’s nice to make up holidays,” Shirley says, shaking her head. “There are enough as it is.” She takes a sip of her soda, nodding all the while.

“Maybe it is a real holiday,” Annie says, looking hopeful. “Bubble baths are fun, right? Especially when it’s cold outside.”

The girls all swivel toward Jeff, three pairs of eyes silently demanding arbitration. He sighs and removes his laptop from its carrying case. A few search terms in Google and he has the answer – an answer, at least.

“These are real holidays, I’m terrified to report,” Jeff says, looking up from his computer.

“Let me see that,” Shirley says, turning the computer toward her seat. “I do not think it is acceptable that this is on a list that also includes Martin Luther King Jr. Day.” She tsks, shaking her head.

“It’s clearly not a real holiday,” Britta argues. “The font on that website is Comic Sans!”

They look blankly back her.

“Comic Sans, people!” She tosses her hands up and takes another bite of her veggie burger.

Shirley and Annie are discussing the relative absurdity of National Bubble Bath Day and Jeff is trying and failing not to listen.

They are interrupted when Troy and Abed arrive, settling into the booth with a flurry of shed coats and loose snowflakes.  
“There’s a bubble machine outside,” Troy observes.

“A bubble machine.” Jeff’s question is all inference, suggesting that while he desperately wants to know more, he’s absolutely not going to request more information.

“It’s National Bubble Bath Day,” Abed says, voice flat but a smile curling the corner of his lip.

“Yeah,” Troy says. “Hey, aren’t bubbles just soapy water?” His brow is crinkled in deep thought.

“Yes, Troy, yes they are.” Jeff smiles his best lawyer smile (sincerity!) at Troy.

“And wasn’t it like... 15 degrees this morning?” Everyone nods.

“Liability lawsuit waiting to happen,” Jeff agrees.

Pierce rolls in then, over-shooting the table and zooming by them briefly, wheels spinning, before reversing and crashing into the table, almost knocking Britta’s veggie burger to the floor.

The chaos that ensues is nothing more serious than the every day type of chaos resulting from Pierce’s disability and pathological inability to acknowledge said disability, but it still sends them scrambling after tilted cups and lunging to protect Armani coats – though that last is exclusive to Jeff.

“Well I’ve got to go home and get my swim suit,” Annie says, swinging her backpack onto her shoulder. “Taking part in the Bathtub Bubble (B)extravaganza is the first assignment for my relaxation class. I’m pretty sure the dean forced Professor King to make us participate. He was definitely acting coerced.” She frowns, looking over at the array of bathtubs.

The group offers general farewells as Annie collects her tray and moves toward the trashcan.

“Hey, have you guys heard that joke about Bubble in the bathtub?” Pierce asks, already chuckling to himself.

“Let me stop you before you start, Pierce,” Britta replies.

Shirley shakes her head while Britta just looks disgustedly at Pierce.

“Fine!” Pierce barks, and then mutters: “Fun vampires.” Then his attention is taken by something behind them, and he blows into his wheelchair and wheels off without another word.

“That was odd,” Jeff comments. “Moving on.” He clears his throat. “I move that we boycott all activities involving swimwear during the month of January.”

“Seconded,” Shirley chirps, hand raised, before anyone else can reply.

Pierce’s return to the table is hardly more elegant than his first approach, and this time it’s the remains of Shirley’s lunch that nearly meets the floor. His face is triumphant and he’s carrying a handful of shiny black material.

“Look what I found! The dean says they accidentally ordered a thousand Greendale Swim Team bathing suits instead of a hundred. They’re just giving them away!” He shakes the bundle in their faces, gleefully.

“Pierce, you know you can’t actually get in the hot tub with your casts on, right?” Jeff asks, in his best “Greendale Parent” voice.

“Whatever,” Pierce says, sullenly, stuffing the wad of swimsuits into his briefcase. Jeff raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment.

“Hello, study group,” Dean Pelton sing-songs as he approaches them, raised hands waving around near his head.  
“Can I interest any of you in a dip in the hot tub? Or one of the bathtubs?” He asks, gesturing toward a few rows of bathtubs placed two by two along the far wall. They are blocking the sundae station and are close enough to the drink machines to make getting a soda a labyrinthine procedure.

“Awkwardly placed bathtub trope. Nice.” Abed comments. No one responds.

“That looks like a Cialis commercial,” Britta points out to the dean, gesturing toward the bathtubs placed two-by-two around the edge of the cafeteria.

“What? No!” Dean Pelton is sputtering now, and hurries away with his fist over his mouth, muttering to himself. He waves a flailing hand in their direction as he weaves his way toward the row of methodically placed bathtubs.

Annie returns to the table, holding a pile of swimsuits.

“They’re giving away swimsuits!” She exclaims.

“Streets behind,” Pierce mutters.

Annie continues, ignoring him. “I got one for each of us,” she says, to general dismay.

Shirley blanches; Jeff leans back in the booth; Britta sputters and Troy conceals his excited yelp with a feigned coughing fit. Abed pats his shoulder distractedly, eyes straying toward the bathtubs thoughtfully.

[CUT TO A COMMERCIAL FOR CIALIS]

Usage of the cafeteria wavers between its typical occupation as a convenient location for students to fulfill their nutritional requirements and its sudden and unexpected new job as a low-budget YMCA.

The hot tubs and bathtubs are slowly filling with swimsuit-clad students. Starburns holds court in one, still wearing his top hat.

“Jeffrey!” the dean shouts, waving a hand. “Come join me in the hot tub!” He gestures to a place next to him. The spots on his Dalmatian-style Speedo are just barely visible through the jets.

Jeff turns away, shuddering. Britta, Annie and Shirley have gone off to the bathroom and Pierce is sulking in the corner, eyes intent on one of the Cialis-style bathtubs.

Abed and Troy are sharing a look. Abed’s lip curls as the silent conversation comes to a close.

Britta, Annie and Shirley rejoin the table, wearing only ill-fitting and unflattering Greendale Swim Team bathing suits. Abed and Troy glance at them and then back at each other.

“C’mon Troy, let’s go find a bathtub.”

Troy nods and bounces a little on the balls of his feet.

Shirley shakes her head. “There is something odd about the two of you.” She shifts her purse, clutching it to her chest.

Abed cocks his head. “That was a plot point from last season.”

Jeff glances up. “Abed.”

“Sorry. Last semester.”

Jeff nods.

Troy and Abed shake their handshake and move together toward the bathroom, swimsuits in hand.

The boys haven’t been gone for more than a minute before catastrophe strikes, in the form of a shower of water erupting from each pipe in the room. Given that each one has been pressed into service as an impromptu hot tub feeder, it’s not really too surprising. Jeff mentally amends his potential liability suit from “winnable” to “un-loseable.”

[CUT TO A COMMERCIAL FOR ACME PLUMBERS]

Abed and Troy emerge from the bathroom to a scene of destruction. Water sprays from every pipe extended into the cafeteria to feed the hot tubs and bathtubs, and the water already lapping against their ankles is ice cold.

“It’s the end of days!” Shirley shouts, eyes wide and sacrilegiously serious.

They make their way back to the study group’s booth, where Jeff and the women are huddled, blue lipped, dripping wet and clearly miserable.

“It’ll slow down soon,” Jeff is insisting, running a hand through his suspiciously dry hair. Everyone ignores him.

“This is a job for the menfolk,” Shirley declares.

“Shirley!” Britta wears her “everything I say can be traced back to the feminist theory class I took last semester” face.

Troy rolls his eyes, but subtly.

“I mean it,” Shirley continues. “What use is the male gender if not for rescuing us from erupting freezing water?” She gestures toward them impatiently.

“Shirley’s right,” Abed says, and motions Jeff and Troy to follow him.

Shirley’s “Oh, that’s nice!” follows them to the corner.

“Something’s gone wrong with the pipes,” Troy declares, once they’re alone.

“So we go get someone to fix the pipes,” Jeff says, hand on the handle of the cafeteria door. He yanks it to no avail, but tries again, then again, as it stops just short of opening.

“Ok,” the dean begins. “I may have instructed security to padlock the doors to the cafeteria, to encourage participation in the Bubble Bathtub (B)extravaganza.” He somehow manages to seem completely devoid of shame.

Troy frowns. “I thought it was the Bathtub Bubble (B)extravaganza,” he says.

“I cannot deal with that now!” bleats Dean Pelton.

“I’ll just call someone to let us out,” Jeff says, fishing in his pocket.

“Nooooo,” screams Abed, leaping toward him in what might almost be called slow motion. He tackles Jeff before he can electrocute himself.

This, naturally, means that he and Jeff end up in 6-inch deep ice water.

[CUT TO A COMMERCIAL FOR HEALTH INSURANCE]

“We’re trapped,” Troy observes, looking around at the small clumps of half-frozen Greendale students.

“Brilliant observation,” Jeff says half-heartedly.

“Hey, man – ” Troy begins, but Jeff cuts him off.

“No, seriously – ”

“Air vents,” Abed says, looking between the two of them.

“Air vents?” Troy looks up, awed. “Not just vents for air.”

“Classic trope.” Abed moves confidently towards a cafeteria table and positions it under the vent, water sloshing around his calves as he moves. Troy and Jeff follow him, trying to pull their sodden clothing away from their bodies.

“Let’s be careful out there,” Abed says, as they clamber one by one into the air vent, elbows banging and Jeff in particular struggling to squeeze his lanky frame into the tight space. He would roll his eyes, but he doesn’t exactly have room to.

After a long, dusty and extraordinarily unpleasant trek through Greendale’s antiquated duct system, they drop gracelessly into a math classroom adjacent to the cafeteria, shoes and pants still squishing with accumulated water. They glance at each other and take off at a jog into the deserted hallway.

“For the record, the only reason I’m going along with this crazy scheme is because out here I can still text.” Jeff’s hands and eyes never leave his phone, even as he trots along keeping pace with the others. “The minute something more interesting comes along, I’m out of here.”

“How cynical and yet, so very typical of you, Winger.” Professor Duncan’s voice slides out of an empty hallway, preceding his presence by a few seconds. Jeff doesn’t look up from his phone before giving Duncan the finger. The group stops though, as Duncan moves to block the hallway in front of them.

“Abed,” Professor Duncan begins, ignoring Jeff. “How lovely to see you! I was hoping we could discuss the events that transpired before Christmas in a little more detail. I’ve got some very reputable journals interested in the … I mean, I’m worried that you might suffer from another psychotic break without the proper counseling. Yes, that’s it.” He rocks back on his heels, self-satisfied smirk on his face.

“Back off, Duncan,” Jeff says, stepping in front of Abed.

“You should realize, Winger, that I’m simply trying to vent the boy’s brain, before all of those delusions build up pressure until there’s a breaking point.”

Troy’s eyes light up as inspiration dawns.

“What is it, Troy?” Abed asks, head cocked to one side.

Duncan gestures to them. “That, there, is precisely my point!”

Troy whispers in Abed’s ear. Duncan throws up his hands and moves off, pouting.

“This is just crazy enough to work,” Abed says. A smile lights up his face.

[CUT TO A COMMERCIAL FOR ANTIFREEZE]

“We need to get to the Steam Pipe Distribution Room,” Troy states, moving confidently in that direction.

“We can regulate the pipes’ temperature from there, maybe insulate them more if we need to.”

Abed nods and Jeff just sighs and holsters his phone. They find the Steam Pipe Distribution Room unattended and unlocked, with a surprisingly well-stocked toolbox in the corner.

“How can you possibly know how to regulate the temperature when the pipes have frozen?” Jeff stares straight at Troy.

Troy, all the skill of a plumber moving through his blood, stands up straighter.

Abed looks straight at the camera.

“This scene has been cut due to time constraints,” he intones. “Look for it on the DVD special features.”

Troy spins the wrench in his hands once, twice.

Jeff rolls his eyes as he walks back toward the cafeteria, bolt cutters in hand.

[CUT TO A COMMERCIAL FOR ACME HARDWARE]

Troy and Abed enter the cafeteria, and an icy wind makes their coats billow out until they almost look like capes. The chaos has been contained now; only small icy rivulets running from pipes suggest that anything was ever amiss. Britta and Shirley hurry toward them, the dean and Jeff following anxiously and laconically, respectively, in their wake.

“What happened? Are you boys all right?” Shirley’s maternal instinct is in full force as she pats them down, checking for injuries.

“It was Leonard,” Troy says calmly, wrench still dangling from his hand.

“What! He’s lying!” Leonard, who had been loitering on a furniture island above the icy water, was shouting and backing away toward the still open doors.

“I knew I hated Leonard,” Jeff mutters.

“Apparently, it’s cold enough outside that the pipes need special insulation. If someone were to, say, strip it off, the pipes would freeze, and then burst, causing a calamity thought not” – a pointed look at Shirley – “the Second Coming of Christ.” Abed speaks calmly, eyes never leaving Leonard.

“Your denial might be more effective if you hadn’t written LeOnArD wuz HR on the steam valve,” Abed continues, offering the photographic evidence from his phone to the dean, who takes it with a gasp and then a badly muffled groan.

“And I would have gotten away with it, too!” Leonard shouts, shaking a fist as the security guard manhandles him out the door. “If it weren’t for you meddling kids! And that dog!” The dean follows them out, breathlessly near hysterics.

“Nice connection,” Abed says, nodding.

“What?” Troy asks no one in particular.

“Just go with it,” Jeff says, sighing. His shoes squelch as he lifts one and then the other.

“He’s comparing us to the mystery-solving cast of Scooby-Doo,” Abed explains. “Jeff is definitely Freddy, which would make Annie Velma and – “

Jeff cuts him off. “We get it Abed. Let’s move on.”

“Britta is definitely Daphne,” Abed continues, a little mutinously.

“I loved that show!” Britta says, appearing next to Abed. She’s in a Greendale swimsuit but has a damp towel wrapped around her waist and her drenched hoodie is plastered to her upper body.

“What?” She asks, when Jeff gives her a look. “I used to watch it as a kid when I was sick.”

“I’ve got the box set in my dorm room – every episode from the past 10 years,” Abed cuts in.

“Do you have some sweats we can change into?” Annie asks, shivering.

“You bet.”

“I’m in,” Britta and Annie say together.

Pierce grumbles but caves when pressed, and when Abed offers hot chocolate Shirley stops pretending to protest.

Jeff nods to Troy and Abed, and together the study group heads for the dorm and an afternoon of watching other people have hair-raising adventures.

[CUT TO A COMMERCIAL FOR A NEW SCOOBY DOO MOVIE]

Troy and Abed walk into the library study room, wearing scuba suits, flippers and snorkels. In place of the couches there are two full bathtubs.

They climb in, water sloshing dangerously close to the sides of the bathtubs.

“AUX 1 reports ready to submerge, Captain,” Troy says as he positions the goggles over his eyes.

“Batten the hatches, Seaman. Let’s get this boondoggle underway.” Abed’s gaze is focused toward the horizon visible through the study room window. Troy nods.

“Aye, Captain.”

They position their snorkels simultaneously and sink below the water, bubbles breaking the surface above them.

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently, National Bubble Bath day is a real thing. Who knew? Thank you to my beta; all subsequent mistakes are my own.


End file.
